


Blue Eyes Like Blue Skies

by sunflowerstyles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Harry, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Niall and josh arent officially gay, Nightmares, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape tw!, Top Louis, Uni AU, artist!louis, domestic ziam aww, dont worry the relevant smut is quite fluffy, sorry to drag you into this josh, writer!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerstyles/pseuds/sunflowerstyles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's last relationship was horrific, leaving him with physical and mental scars. Louis comes into his life and does his best to treat Harry how he deserves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Eyes Like Blue Skies

Rain hit the window at a peaceful rhythm that made Harry somewhat content as he sat on the loveseat in the small library. He watched the raindrops drip off the flowers that were growing in a box outside the window he was sitting near, smiling slightly as he thought to himself “April showers bring May flowers.” He reluctantly turned away from the serene view before him and cracked open the book of poems in his lap. As it was nearly May, the deadline for the final project for his composition class at the university he attended was looming closer and he hadn’t started at all. The assignment was to compose a collection of five romantically themed poems.

When he was first told of the assignment, he couldn’t help but feel bitter about it. The thought of his last boyfriend didn’t exactly inspire Harry with romantic thoughts.  He had taken to hitting him whenever Harry denied him of something he wanted, which was often sex. Harry had always been more for romantic dates and cuddling before bed. Not meaningless fucking, which was how he ended up spending a fair few evenings with Derek. He whined the first several times and suggested different ways to spend their night, but he learned very quickly to keep his ideas to himself thanks to Derek’s strong hands. He thought if he just agreed to giving in to Derek’s sexual desires, it would keep his beatings at bay, but it soon became more and more frequent, Harry earning slaps for forgetting to take out the trash and spending too much time at his sister’s.

Harry, convinced no other person would grow to love him as he told himself Derek had, put up with the domestic abuse for months, even when his boyfriend came home an increasingly number of nights drunk. And when he came home drunk, Harry knew that meant he was in for a long night of unwanted rough sex. After countless nights of feeling like complete shit, he finally confided in his sister what had been happening in his love life lately, and Gemma in her infinite wisdom advised him to get the hell out of that toxic relationship as quickly as possible.

He tried to let Derek down as gently as he could, not only because he feared getting hurt more severely than he already was, but also because Harry was the type of person who exuded compassion and respect to everyone he knew, even the people who he knew full well didn’t deserve an ounce of his never –ending kindness. Derek was less than understanding, to say the least. He quickly grew clingier and rougher with Harry, aiming to frighten him into staying in the relationship.

Harry’s hell on earth was put to an end soon after that, on a night when Derek was particularly drunk and horny. He was being rowdier than usual, carelessly knocking things over and causing a loud commotion. The familiar tense knot of anxiety took its usual place in Harry’s stomach. He knew just how the night was about to take place and he was dreading every second. He found himself once again half-heartedly pulling away from Derek’s resolute grasp on his wrist when Derek aimed a resounding slap to his face. Harry’s cheek stung pink and he could feel the tears in his eyes as he allowed himself to be led to the bedroom when the door was broken down. Two police officers explained they’ve received complaints of loud disruption coming from this apartment, and when the knock on the door went unheard due to the shouting on the other side, they had to force their way in.

Derek ended up getting arrested once the police saw the pink hand print on Harry’s face and listened to him explain what had been happening for the past few months. That night, Harry cried himself to sleep out of pure relief that his personal torture was over, that he was free from the boy that had given him physical and emotional scars. He slept restfully for the first time in a very long time.

He’d been single for six months now, and there wasn't a day that wenr by when he didn't feel relieved for escaping his last relationship. Lately though, he’d been wondering often about the thought of having someone to keep him company in his quiet apartment, someone to keep him warm at night.

Trying to fight his persistent writer’s block, he concentrated hard on the collection of love poems in his lap in pursuit of any inspiration at all. He combed through the book several times but found it didn’t help much. He had to admit that this last project had the potential to be the worst assignment he would turn in this semester. He knew he wouldn't be able to create anything especially insightful about romance given his still-sore memories of his past relationship. Accepting defeat, he unwillingly began to write a few lines of bullshit so he had something to turn in when someone walked over to a chair not too far from him.

The boy was carrying a messenger bag that he pulled a sketchbook and a tin of pencils out of. Harry tried half-heartedly to stop staring at him, but he couldn’t help becoming locked on the stranger’s beautiful features and charismatic feathery caramel hair. He could tell from where he was sitting that the boy had the most remarkable blue eyes he had ever seen, and Harry wanted so badly to become familiar with them.

Harry’s eyes were glued to him, to his nicely groomed facial hair and glasses resting on the tip of his nose. The stranger glanced over the top of his glasses all of sudden, looking straight at Harry. He stared intently for a few seconds before offering a small smile and a polite “G’afternoon, mate.”

Harry collected himself and forced out, “Good afternoon,” in a voice much higher than his usual morbid tone and returned the smile.

“Gorgeous day, yeah?” the boy said sarcastically with raised eyebrows, tilting his head to the window near Harry.

“I quite like the rain, myself. Sounds relaxing,” Harry told him, his voice returning to normal.

The boy paused to consider this and replied with, “Yeah, I s’pose. Just don’t like what it does to my hair,” and shook his head like a dog after a bath.

Harry laughed lightly and surprised himself with how comfortable he felt with this stranger, which was fairly uncommon for him.

“Don’t be bothered, you look quite nice,” Harry promised him with a smile.

The stranger blushed and bit back a grin, breathing out a laugh. “Thanks. Oh, I’m Louis, by the way,” he told Harry.

“Harry,” he said, trying to fight the huge grin at the sight of Louis blushing. He stared resolutely back at his paper, hoping Louis didn’t notice how he was smiling like an idiot.

The next few hours passed with only the sound of rain on the window and both boys scratching pencils across paper and turning pages. Harry stole quick glances throughout the afternoon, feeling a little jittery and pleased. Before he knew it, he’d written two pages of poetry, inspiration flooding through him from the second he laid eyes on Louis.

He glanced up once more when he heard Louis putting away his things. He shouldered his bag and smiled wide at Harry, making his eyes crinkle. Harry bit back another giant grin at how pretty Louis’ smiles are.

“I’m off then, see ya ‘round, Harry,” he said with a small wave.

“Bye, Louis!” he replied cheerfully. He turned to gaze out the window, watching as Louis left down the sidewalk. “See ya ‘round.”

-

Harry found himself returning to the library the next day, wondering if Louis would be there again. A voice in his head kept nagging him not to get his hopes up since he knew how unlikely it could be. It was only a small library; most students took to studying in the main library on campus. Harry preferred a quieter atmosphere no matter the longer walk it required opposed to the larger main library. He briefly wondered why Louis was in the nearly deserted library too and decided most artists would rather work on their sketches in private without prying eyes. He found himself spending an unnecessary amount of time thinking about Louis, or rather wondering about what he didn’t know about Louis. What was he majoring in? What was he drawing? Does he like painting just as much? Harry realized all he really knew about the boy was that he doesn’t like what rain does to his hair. Harry decided as that wasn’t much to go on, he’d ask Louis about himself if he ever saw him around in the future. He didn’t like the idea of never hearing that sunny voice again.

He knew by now his hopes were too high, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He supposed that given his past relationship, he should feel bitter and all-around pessimistic about love at this point, but something about Louis brought warmth to his heart that he didn’t want to ignore.

He sat at his window seat in the library with a few books open on a table as Louis consumed his thoughts. Harry’s eyes gazed unseeing at the book in his lap, zoning out long enough for him not to notice he now had company. Louis entered the library, his greeting aimed at Harry going unanswered.

“Harry?” Louis said a little louder, standing only a few feet away from Harry. Harry shook his head a bit, his curls bouncing. He blushed when he realized he’d had a very dopey looking smile on his face as he was zoning out.

“Sorry Lou, didn’t hear you come in,” Harry said a little sheepishly, but pleased to see him nevertheless.

“All good, mate. Seemed to be spacing out a bit, you studying too hard for your exams?” Louis asked with a little smile.

Harry considered his response, wondering if he should lie and confirm Louis’ question to keep it short and sweet. He decided against it, seeing as he’d definitely rather talk to Louis than crack on with his homework.

“Not exactly, I’m working on a poetry assignment for a comp class. It’s turning out to be a bit of challenge is all,” Harry shrugged.

“Poetry, eh? So you’re a writer?” Louis asked, sitting in the seat closest to Harry. His question was momentarily lost on Harry as he was filled with pleasant jitters at Louis’ interest in him.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, someday, maybe. Hopefully,” Harry replied, stumbling over his words.

Louis smiled at his hesitant answer and continued further. “What is it you write about?”

The words were on the tip of Harry’s tongue, nearly falling out to make their way into the conversation.  _Blue eyes,_ he thought. _The rain and blue eyes and your sweet smile._

“Um, anything, I guess. I like fiction. Sometimes editorials, I’ve submitted a few things to the paper,” Harry shrugged. “I like to write about people.”

Louis nodded, genuinely intrigued. “That sounds interesting, mate. You a… journalism major?”

“Yep. Second year,” Harry added.

“I’ll be looking for your name on books someday then, yeah?” Louis smiled, continuing to make Harry feel warm inside at his attention.

Harry chuckled and blushed at the comment. “Right, that’s the plan. Best-selling author straight out of uni.”

“Never know. Dream big, Harry,” Louis smiled at him, enjoying making the boy blush.

Harry bit back a grin, his chin to his chest. He finally collected himself and returned Louis’ interest. “Are you an artist, then?” he asked, gesturing to Louis sketchbook wedged in his bag.

“Oh, um, yeah. Of sorts,” Louis responded with a shrug.

“Yeah? What do you like to draw?” Harry continued, mirroring Louis’ questions.

Louis met his eyes with the smallest hint of mischief. “I like to draw people.”

Harry grinned back at him, reveling in the happiness of making a new friend. The two talked until the sky grew dark outside, hours passing by unnoticed. Harry talked about his favorite authors while Louis told him of his favorite artists, the conversation flowing perfectly. Louis told him of his current homework as well; his final assignment was to create several human portraits in different perspectives using the medium of his choice, which happened to be a simple pencil on paper. By the time the library was scheduled to close for the night, neither of the boys had worked a single bit on their homework. They bid each other farewell when they parted, having been kicked out of the library. Harry returned home still giddy from Louis having put his number into his phone. That night before bed, he wrote pages upon pages about unwaveringly blue eyes, graphite-smeared fingers, and the long-forgotten feeling of first crushes.

-

By the end of the week, Harry was finishing up his third of the five poems for his final project. He read them over, still unsatisfied with their quality but relieved slightly that he’d made progress. Derek always told him his writing was too sappy or too boring. He never quite understood what Harry wrote about, shrugging it off without making an effort to decipher Harry’s thoughts on paper. Harry let his mind wander further, flashing back to a moment in his last relationship.

_“It doesn’t make sense, H. ‘She felt cold all over despite her husband’s warm arm around her waist; she felt miles apart from the person right next to her.’ What’s that even mean?”_

_Harry shrugged and looked down at his shoes, trying hard to push away the sad, scary thoughts that may have inspired his most recent short story for class. “Like, she doesn’t feel the same in her husband’s presence? And she’s… cold instead of warm, like how you feel warm when you’re happy? In love?” Harry supplied in attempt to explain it._

_Derek rolled his eyes. “I dunno, I don’t get it. It’s too cryptic… and mopey,” he replied, handing back Harry’s typed final draft. Harry frowned at his paper, doubting his writing once more. “And you forgot, like, three commas, I think.”_

The close-minded critique left Harry feeling dejected, but he chalked it up to the fact that Derek majored in engineering and hadn’t read a book in years, save for his school textbooks.

Harry now stood in his empty apartment, looking over his poems for the umpteenth time, criticizing himself in a way he never used to before dating Derek.

-

All month long, Harry and Louis kept each other company in the library, talking less often in favor of getting their coursework in order and studying for finals in other classes. Harry enjoyed the silence, pleased to be in Louis’ company all the same. They made up for it with texting, sending each other messages about everything imaginable when they weren’t together. Harry found himself enjoying his conversations with Louis more and more, virtual or not.

One sunny May afternoon found the two of them in the library once more, both near finishing the assignments. The silence was broke every now and then by Harry asking Louis if certain phrases flowed smoothly enough and Louis giving him helpful advice. He was near the end of his project, just editing trivial details in his poems and asking for second opinions. He never let Louis read any of his poems start to finish for fear that he would pick up on whom Harry was describing in his series of thoughts on the serendipity of a new friendship turning into new love.

As he was finishing up his homework, a thought occurred to him about one of the few topics he hadn’t managed to comb over with Louis in their hours of talking.

“I don’t think we’ve ever talked about our plans for the summer,” Harry said, glancing up at Louis, who was putting the final touches on his latest masterpiece he planned on turning in for his final project: he had done several drawings of his younger twin sisters, though the assignment called for the subject to be an individual. He was currently adding finishing touches to the shading of the girls’ mirroring side profiles when he looked up at Harry’s comment.

“I think I’m staying put, myself. I’ll go pay my mum and sisters a visit, may travel south with some friends to the coast,” Louis mused. “I’m finding a job in the meantime, though. How about you?”

“I’m staying here as well. Go see my mum once my sister’s free so we can visit together, that’s about it…” Harry trailed off, mulling over what he wanted to say next. “Should we-I mean, someday after the semester ends, would you like to hang out sometime?” he asked, praying the request sounded casual.

“I’d love to! I’ll be missing our study dates once school’s over,” Louis replied with a grin.

Harry’s heart sped up slightly with Louis’ referral to the word ‘date.’ He knew Louis wasn’t dating anyone, but Harry wasn’t sure how to ask him if he was interested in boys. Louis knew Harry was, though, Harry having mentioned Derek on several occasions but always changing the subject soon afterward.

“Actually, my friend Liam’s throwing a party after finals week. More of a get-together, really, but if you’re not busy..?” Louis asked him.

Harry bit back a bitter laugh; his only friends upon attending uni had been Derek’s friends, and their idea of fun was constantly doing lines and hitting up clubs all weekend long. Not only had Harry’s relationship left him with physical consequences like bruises and scars, the incessant partying caused his grades to sink lower and lower. He was never much of a noisy, sweaty bar person anyway. After setting himself free of Derek, it was safe to say his social calendar was never booked.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be free,” he answered lamely before adding, “I’d love to meet your friends.”

Louis beamed at him and set back to work with his drawing. Harry felt nervous excitement at the promise of going to a party even though it was two weeks away. He hadn’t really been out in months, much less invited out by a beautiful boy who seemed fond of him.

-

Finals week passed slowly in a haze of textbooks and late nights, Harry and Louis continuing to meet at the library to study for their exams. Through his exhaustion, Louis’ eyes continued to light up as he talked about things he liked. He told Harry excitedly about a small art supplies store that opened up a block away from his apartment. He planned on applying for a part time position once school was over. Harry grinned at his happiness, knowing the store would be perfect for him. Harry told him stories of his job at the café near the campus. He told Louis of the regulars, older women who found Harry’s polite manners and pretty dimples absolutely enamoring. Louis was grateful to say the least about Harry’s job as it meant many free sweets for Louis. He loved Harry’s always-present smell of sweet coffee and the muffins and pastries he’d provide for Louis when he knew he was having an off day from his grumpy texts. The two of them had grown close over the past month, complementing each other in so many ways.

Once the week of exams was over, Harry kept to himself in his apartment aside from leaving for his early morning shifts at the café. He missed hanging out with Louis, but he was all too aware of how much sleep he had missed out on in the stress of passing his classes. One slow morning at his job, he thought to ask Louis for his friend’s address, assuming Louis still wanted him to come. His response made Harry’s heart flutter happily: Louis suggested picking up Harry at his apartment so they could arrive at Liam’s together and Louis could properly introduce him. Harry happily agreed and gave Louis his address instead. During the three days before the party, Harry didn’t think of much else besides seeing pretty blue eyes and that sweet smile for the first time in a week.

The day Louis was due to pick him up, Harry fretted in front of his closet, struggling to decide what to wear. He knew his outfit choices were on the eccentric side; Derek had to tell him on a few too many occasions to change once he took in Harry’s outfits.

_“What the hell’ve you got around your head?” Derek sneered at him, tugging on the scarf Harry had tied around his hair._

_“’S just a scarf,” Harry mumbled. He had found a pretty beige scarf with tiny blackbirds on it in a shop he found himself in one afternoon and purchased it on a whim, smiling at how thin and soft it was-perfect to hold back his growing curls._

_Derek snorted at him and tugged it down over his eyes. “That looks retarded, H. Get it off.”_

_Harry frowned and untied it, gazing at the little birds crumpled in his hands. “Don’t say that word,” he protested weakly._

_“Whatever,” Derek replied, rolling his eyes and grabbing the scarf out of Harry’s grasp and tossing it on the counter. “You wouldn’t even need something like that if you’d just cut your damn hair. It’s getting ridiculous.”_

_Harry’s eyes welled up slightly at that comment; he only recently had found the confidence to start growing it out more, thanks to Gemma’s constant reassurances of how handsome he’d look once he confided in her his hesitant desire to let it grow longer than it’s ever been._

_“Come on, everyone’s already there, you’re gonna make us late again,” Derek told him, grabbing Harry’s arm forcefully and marching out the door on their way to one of his friend’s birthday party at a dirty bar Harry wasn’t fond of. He quietly tagged along nevertheless._

Harry stood on his tiptoes and retrieved a basket from the top shelf of his closet. He fished out the blackbird scarf and stepped in front of his mirror. He tied back his slightly shower-damp hair and examined his reflection, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as the words replayed in his head over and over. _That looks retarded, H. Get it off._ Harry turned his back to the mirror, pulling the scarf off his head and continued getting ready.

He heard a knock on his door an hour later as he was pulling on his socks. He hastened to let Louis in with a smile on his face, so excited to see his friend again. Louis returned his excitement, greeting Harry enthusiastically and stepping into his apartment. He gave Harry a big hug, telling him how he missed him only after a week.

Louis held his arms around Harry’s waist for longer than was entirely necessary and held on tight. “My god, Harry. You smell so good.”

Harry blushed and hugged him back, truly taking in his height advantage over Louis for the first time. He’d washed away his ever-present smell of old coffee and sprayed on his cologne he saved for special occasions. “Thanks, Lou.”

Louis pulled back and smiled warmly at him. “So, are you ready to go? My friends are eager to meet you,” Louis informed him.

Harry blushed harder at the thought of Louis telling his friends about him, wondering how he was described to them. “Gotta find my shoes, I’ll be back in a second,” he promised before disappearing back to his bedroom and hunted for his boots.

He returned and grabbed his keys, locking the door behind him and Louis.

“You look very nice, Lou,” Harry told him shyly as they made their way down the hall and out the front doors. Louis was wearing a plain white muscle tank, making his sunkissed skin even tanner in contrast and displaying his impressive, tattooed biceps. Colorful flecks of paint absently dotted his shirt, and Harry fondly noticed his hand still had a shadow of graphite on one side.  As Harry gazed at him, he felt inspired to write pages of more poetry.

“Thank you, love. You’re sweet,” he replied happily.

As they walked the few blocks to Liam’s house, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if this could be considered a date. He and Louis had no romantic interactions to speak of, but the overly optimistic part of his mind kept him fantasizing about being confident enough to just grab Louis’ hand as he swayed his arms freely beside Harry.

Louis led the way to his friend’s apartment complex and up the stairs with Harry close behind. “I hope you haven’t had dinner yet ‘cause Liam makes the best cheeseburgers. He puts cheese _right in_ the hamburger meat before he grills it. That’s genius, that is,” Louis babbled on animatedly. Despite Harry’s nerves from meeting Louis’ friends shortly, he couldn’t help but giggle at Louis’ simple excitement.

Louis stopped abruptly at one door and banged on it obnoxiously. Someone immediately called from inside before opening it, “Can you tone it down a few notches, Lou?” A lock clicked and the door was opened by a heavily tattooed man. “Goddamn, just bust it down next time, yeah?”

Louis rolled his eyes as he made to pinch his friend but got his hand slapped away. “Hi, Zaynie. Have you missed me?” Louis asked sweetly. He took hold of Harry’s hand and led him inside past his friend. Harry felt his stomach tighten in excitement at the feeling of his hand in Louis’.

“Harry, this is Zayn, Liam’s boyfriend,” Louis supplied.

Harry sacrificed his first chance to hold Louis’ hand in favor of politely shaking Zayn’s and smiled kindly at him. “Nice to meet you.”

“ _This_ is the Harry we’ve been hearing about. Good to meet you, too, mate,” he replied. He shot Louis a knowing smirk and led them inside to a big couch. Harry sat down reverently while Louis plunked himself down unceremoniously and put his feet on the coffee table. Harry smiled at how casual and comfortable he was; it was nice and different to be with him out of a public setting.

“Z, you wanna get me a beer?” Louis requested.

“You want one, Harry?” Zayn asked, already in the kitchen.

“Yes, please,” he answered.

 Louis shot him a grin right away. “So polite you are, Harold,” Louis told him admirably.

Harry felt his cheeks heat up as he let out a quiet chuckle. He fidgeted shyly for a bit, feeling Louis’ gaze on him until he asked, “Um, so how do you know Zayn?”

“Zayn’s an art major like me,” Louis explained. “Except he’s got this quiet, mysterious thing about him. Which is where I come in,” he continued, and added upon seeing Zayn reenter the room, “I get him out of his shell with my dazzling personality.”

Zayn thunked a bottle of beer against Louis’ head and handed another to Harry.

“He’s an extraordinarily talented artist though. One of a kind, he is,” Louis went on, gesturing to Zayn with the neck of his bottle before taking a long sip.

Zayn shrugged and tilted his own back. “Shove it, Lou.”

Louis turned to Harry. “Really though, he’s amazing. He’s into spray paint a lot, does really cool graffiti-style things. It’s sick,” he explained, genuinely complimentary of his friend.

Harry nodded appreciatively. “Sounds unique, I’m sure you’re very good at what you do.”

Zayn smirked and nodded. “Thanks, man. So Lou says you’re a writer?”

“Um, journalism major, yeah,” Harry replied.

“He likes to write about people, he says. Sometimes fiction. But his stuff’s been in the paper and online before, isn’t that awesome?” Louis adds. Harry soon realized how talkative Louis is with his friends and he’s fascinated with the happy energy he always gives off.

“Shut up, Lou, let him talk,” Zayn chastises as if Louis’ his younger brother.

Harry chuckles as Louis sticks his tongue out at Zayn.

Harry and Zayn talk a while longer together before another man slides open a door to the balcony, letting in a cloud of smoke and the smell of burgers on the grill.

“Zayn, we need more hamburger buns, can you text Niall to bring some?” the man asks before his eyes land on Harry.

“Hey, you’re Louis’ friend, yeah?” he asks excitedly.

“Yeah, ‘m Harry,” he responds. “Thanks for having me.”

“Yeah, glad you could come. It’s nice to finally meet you! Lou’s told us a thing or two about you,” he says, causing Zayn to snort into his beer bottle. Louis shoots daggers at Zayn, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry.

“Uhm, yeah. Nice to meet you, too,” Harry replies.

Two more people arrive a few minutes later, one of them bearing a bag of hamburger buns and the other with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Harry learns the name of the blond boy with liquor in his hand is Niall, who has a happy attitude and a thick Irish accent. His friend is Josh, and Harry can’t help but notice how close the two seem. He hesitantly leans over to Louis, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Lou, are Niall and Josh together as well?”

Louis snickers to himself, unable to stop himself. He answers Harry’s question in a murmur so as not to draw attention to himself. “No, Harry, just good mates. They’re about the only straight people in this house, now that you mention it,” Louis replies, gazing around at his friends.

“Oh, right,” Harry replies with a chuckle. Louis’ words register a second late, though, finally sinking in. “You’re… you’re not either? Straight, I mean?” Harry questions quietly.

“No, Hazza, ‘m not. I like boys,” Louis answered a little shyly, shaking his head. Louis was unaware Harry didn’t know this, realizing he’d never properly spelled it out for him.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows at the nickname but decided it was cute. He let the knowledge that Louis was gay and single just like Harry wash over him, hopefulness growing in his chest. “Oh,” he answered, grinning down at his lap. “Me too.”

Louis snickered again, biting back a grin. “I know,” he replied to Harry, reaching up to tweak his nose.

They were interrupted by plates of food being placed on the coffee table. Zayn helped Liam bring out condiments and napkins and more bottles of beer before all six of them started digging in, each eating two burgers apiece. Excluding Niall, who scarfed down three and finished Louis’ leftovers.

All the boys seemed to take an immediate liking to Harry, and Harry enjoyed how easygoing and fun they all were. He fit in comfortably and it was the first time in a long time he hung out with a group of decent people.

By the end of the night, when Louis had three beers and more than a few shots under his belt, he found himself nearly in Harry’s lap, cuddling up close to him. He had his head on Harry’s shoulder laughing at some dumb joke he made.

“Harry, your jokes are awful,” he announced. In Harry’s buzzed haze, he was brought back nearly a year earlier, when he was out with Derek at a friend’s house.

_“What the hell, H, was that supposed to be funny?” Derek spit at him in disdain. They’d arrived an hour ago and Harry’s boyfriend was already drunk. “Your jokes are awful, shut up,” he told him, earning snorts from his friends nearby._

_Harry frowned at Derek. Gemma’s friend Lou had a little girl who could listen to Harry’s jokes all day._

_“Don’t be mean, Derek,” he mumbled, but instantly regretted it._

_“Don’t be mean? Sweetheart, you’ve not seen me mean yet. You’ll see mean when we go home.”_

Harry sat with Louis’ warm body pressed against his, his memories bringing a subdued silence to him. Beside him, however, Louis continued to giggle and twisted up to look at him.

“Tell me another one, Haz, you’re funny,” Louis told him dreamily, with a dopey smile of adoration on his face.

Harry knew it was just the drinks talking, but with his ready supply of knock-knock jokes in his mind, he couldn’t resist.

“Knock knock.”

Louis continued to titter while he answered. “Who’s there?”

“A cow goes…”

Louis furrowed his eyebrows and responded, “A cow goes who?”

“No, a cow goes _moo_ ,” Harry replied, causing Louis to collapse in another fit of giggles. He scooted down on the couch so he could rest his head in Harry’s lap.

“Tell that one to Ni, he’ll like it,” Louis told him, gazing up at Harry. He felt around for a pillow from the couch and chucked it at Niall. “Hey! Niall, c’mere, Hazza’s gotta joke!”

Harry laughed at the boy in his lap as Niall came bounding over, collapsing on top of Louis. Louis went unfazed and prodded at Harry’s shoulder. “Say it, Harry. Do it again.”

Harry humored him and started over. “Alright, knock knock.”

-

By the time Niall and Josh called it a night, Harry realized he should be heading back as well. Louis jumped up when Harry announced he was ready to head out.

“I’ll walk you home, Harry,” he offered, but swayed heavily where he stood. Harry reached out and steadied him with a hand on his hip.

“Maybe I should walk you home, Lou,” Harry smirked, not nearly as drunk as Louis was.

Louis chuckled and leaned into Harry’s touch. “Yeah, maybe,” he mumbled.

Louis said goodbye to his friends followed by Harry, who thanked them for the food and good company.

“Sure thing, Harry. Come back soon, this was nice,” Liam told him kindly.

“Right, thanks again!” Harry said, leading Louis out the door. “I’ll, uh, get him home safe, then.”

Liam and Zayn laughed at their friend’s state, sleepy and leaning heavily against Harry. “Thanks, mate, we owe you one,” Zayn told him while Liam disappeared into the kitchen. He returned moments later with Louis’ address written on a scrap of paper for Harry.

“Have a good night, Harry,” Liam told him and turned to Louis, flicking his ear. “Goodnight, princess, see ya later.”

Louis unenthusiastically slapped away Liam’s hand, “Fuck off, Li. See ya,” he replied.

He and Harry walked out the door and down the hall, Harry’s arm around his waist.

“’M sorry, Harry. Didn’t mean to get this drunk on you, that’s shitty of me,” Louis told him tiredly.

“It’s fine, Lou, I don’t mind. I had a nice night, your friends are great,” Harry responded.

Louis hummed quietly. “Yeah, they’re nice. They like you a lot, too,” Louis said.

“You think so?” Harry asked him. He had been so eager to make a good impression on them since Louis had first invited him out.

“Yeah, for sure. Such a charmer, Hazza, so polite,” Louis smiled up at him.

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry grinned back.

The two walked to Louis’ apartment in silence, Harry with his arm still wrapped around Louis. It became apparent Louis was sober enough to walk on his own, but neither boy made a move to pull away from each other.

They finally arrived at Louis’ flat, Harry walking him right to his door.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight, Harry. I’m glad we could hang out some more,” Louis told him as he dug through his pockets.

“Of course, Lou, I had a lot of fun,” Harry promised.

Louis retrieved his key and glanced up at Harry. “We should hang out again sometime, maybe just the two of us if you’d like?” Louis asked him.

Harry’s heart pounded at the words; he knew Louis wasn’t completely in a proper state of mind, may not even remember this conversation tomorrow, but it made him flush with happiness.

“Yeah, Louis. I’d love that,” he replied honestly.

Louis grinned at him, pleased with his answer.

“Yeah? I’ll text you, Harry,” he said. “See ya soon, then, I s’pose.”

Harry smiled at him as well. “See ya, Lou. Have a good night.”

“’S already been a good night,” Louis replied, and before Harry knew it, Louis was reaching up on his tiptoes to give Harry a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Harry stood there in surprise as Louis turned around to fumble with his lock. He tried telling himself Louis’ just friendly, it’s nothing more than Louis being enthusiastic about hanging out with Harry. Deep down, he couldn’t help but think there must be just a little bit more; he knows Louis was still relatively drunk and may be acting a bit out of character, but seeing Louis unlocking his door and wishing Harry a final goodbye made his heart soar.

“Goodnight, Hazza,” he told Harry, blushing and biting back a grin before closing the door behind himself. Harry returned home in a pleasant daze.

-

Two days later, Harry saw his phone light up with Louis’ name. Louis did, in fact, remember his last conversation with Harry despite all the alcohol he’d had, much to Harry’s delight. He texted Harry wondering when was the next time he’d find himself free to go to lunch. Harry happily told him tomorrow when he doesn’t have work would be perfect.

Harry texted him, ‘its so nice out, do you know of somewhere we could go with a patio?’

Louis’ reply came quick. ‘nevermind a patio, lets have a picnic’

-

There was a knock on Harry’s door, which he rushed to open. Another week went by before he saw Louis again, and he’d been so eager to spend more time with the boy since he dropped him off at his flat.

“Hi, Haz, long time no see!” Louis greeted him happily with a hug.

Harry smiled contentedly, loving the feeling of Louis’ arms around him.

Louis was led to Harry’s kitchen, where Harry was in the process of packing sandwiches and snacks for their lunch. Louis hopped up on his counter and watched Harry’s careful hands make a couple of sandwiches to Louis’ liking before making a couple for himself.

Once everything was in order and Harry had locked up, they headed out the back door of Harry’s building to his car. It had been so warm lately, Harry was so glad to finally enjoy it after he’d had double shifts for the past two days at the café.

He noticed Louis had been taking advantage of the nice weather, wearing a perfectly fitted bro tank to show his amazing arms. Harry could hardly take his eyes off him to watch the road.

Harry was in his favorite denim shorts, eager to break them out again after putting them away last fall. He didn’t wear shorts all that often, but he quite liked them. It was different and freeing, especially since last time he wore them, he was still with Derek, who told him they looked dumb with his bright sneakers.

As if Louis can hear his thoughts, he spoke through the radio playing in Harry’s car.

“I’ve never seen you in anything but skinny jeans, Harry. I quite like those shorts. You’ve got the legs for them after all,” Louis told him, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Thanks. Nice change of pace,” he responded happily.

Louis grinned and talked to Harry about his new job at the art supply store, about how he saw many of his friends from class there and he’d been learning a lot from his boss.

They chatted happily as Harry drove out of the city and into open fields. He parked his car near a patch of woods by a hill, which the two of them climbed up and settled on top.

They dug in right away, the only sounds between them was muffled chewing.

“This is so nice, Haz. Really quiet,” Louis said after a while.

Harry hummed in agreement, glancing at Louis with a smile. “I like spending time with you, Lou.”

Louis beamed at him. “You, too, Haz. Love your company.”

They finished their meal in comfortable silence, a warm breeze surrounding them. Harry gazed at Louis watching the clouds in the sky and took in his beautiful tan skin and content look on his face. Ideas for poetry ran through his mind, lines of writing comparing blue eyes to the blue skies. Louis felt Harry’s eyes on him and returned his look. Louis moved their trash from lunch back in the bag and immediately laced his fingers with Harry’s, stretching out and lying down in the grass.

Harry heart soared and did the same, lying next to Louis on the soft ground.

Minutes passed while they relaxed there together, Harry thinking that there’s no place he’d rather be than here alone with Louis.

After a while, Louis spoke up again, his voice gentle and quiet.

“Harry… you know what?”

“What?”

“I really like you.”

“I really like you, too,” Harry nearly whispered, hardly believing his ears. He felt Louis gently squeeze his hand. Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes, feeling nervous and excited and so _infatuated_ with the boy next to him. He felt Louis move around, so he opened his eyes to see Louis propping himself up on his elbows.

Louis gazed at him happily, reaching over to run his thumb over Harry’s cheek. “Can I kiss you, love?”

Harry’s breath quickened at his words, feeling all shook up inside. He stared at Louis with his big pretty doe eyes and nodded his head slowly.

Louis continued to appraise him with so much care in his eyes, so much joy to be with such a sweet person, rubbing his thumb across his cheek. He held Harry’s face in his hand as he gently leaned in and tilted his head, his lips pressing gently but firmly to Harry’s. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he was treated so gently, but he loved it, craved it like he wanted Louis to touch him so carefully like this forever.

Louis kissed Harry’s lips over and over with Harry happily reciprocating. Neither of them wanted to stop now that they had begun. Louis ran the back of his hand over Harry’s cheek, thinking about how often he’d dreamt of doing exactly this since the first day he met Harry. Right when he started talking with this sweet boy, he knew he wanted nothing more than to kiss him sweetly and hold him close.

Louis disconnected their lips and sat up, pulling Harry with him. He brought one hand to Harry’s thigh and one to the small of his back to pull him closer, as close as he can be. “Come here, Haz,” he said quietly, guiding Harry to straddle his lap.

He brought his hand up to wrap his fingers in Harry’s pretty curls, keeping his other hand on Harry’s back and running up and down in a relaxing way. Harry leaned down to connect their lips again, sighing happily against Louis’ mouth.

Louis wanted to go just a little farther, wanted to lick unhurriedly in Harry’s mouth for hours, but at the same time he also had such a strong desire to take things with Harry as slow as possible, savor every new thing he gets to experience with Harry to treat him how he deserves.

A more lustful part of his mind made the decision to trace his tongue lightly on Harry’s lower lip, gently enough for Harry to decide against it if he wished to keep things chaste. Harry didn’t, though, and opened his mouth slightly for Louis.

The two continued to make out on the hill for nearly half an hour, the mood never feeling rushed or unsure. Harry didn’t think he’d ever made out with anyone this long. With his ex-boyfriend, they never made it past ten minutes without Derek getting a hard-on and insisting on more. But Louis is here now, and Louis is beautiful and warm and comfortable, and he’s holding Harry in his arms.

They eventually broke apart and Harry rested his head on Louis’ shoulder. Louis continued rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s back while the other carded through his hair; Harry swims in the attention this boy was giving him. He loved having his hair played with, but it’s been years.

“Harry, love, your hair is so pretty,” Louis told him quietly. Harry was buzzing with happiness, never wanting this moment to end. “It’s so soft… smells so nice,” Louis mused, mostly to himself. Harry kissed his neck softly in thanks. Louis held his head and keeps his other hand steady on his back while he lied down again, this time with Harry cuddled close to him.

“When I saw you in that library the first time, I knew right away I wanted to keep seeing you,” Louis announced.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I was gone for those pretty dimples the moment I set eyes on you.”

Harry giggled and buried his face in Louis’ neck. “I liked your eyes first.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I saw your blue eyes and could hardly stop staring. I went home and wrote awful sappy poems about your eyes.”

“Did you really now?” Louis asked interestedly. “May I ever see one of these poems?”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up; he’d never intended on anyone seeing them. “Maybe. I dunno, they’re dumb.”

“I’m sure they’re not, Hazza. You write so well, from what you’ve read to me,” Louis promised him.

“Thank you,” he answered quietly. “Maybe I’ll let you see the ones for my final project,” Harry told him, unsure about ever letting this happen. The last person he willingly showed his writing to wasn’t so impressed, and the thought of Louis finding things to critique on the poems Harry had worked so hard on feels a little heartbreaking. “Maybe…”

Louis picked up on his heavy hesitance. “You don’t have to, Hazza. If it’s something personal you like to keep to yourself, I promise I understand that. I have a lot of private things in my sketchbook,” Louis confided to him. “If you do share it with me someday, I’d feel quite honored.”

Harry smiled at his words, relief replacing the tightness in his stomach. No one had ever expressed much interest or respect in what he loved to do, but now with Louis doing so, it made him feel a dozen shades of happy.

“I really want to do this again, Harry,” Louis said, changing the subject abruptly.

“Me, too. It’s been so nice. Spending time with you up here,” he replied.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” Louis asked him quietly; Harry can tell he’s the slightest bit nervous.

“That would be lovely,” Harry told him honestly.

“Yeah?” Louis asked, smiling wide.

“Would that be our first or second date?” Harry asked him playfully.

“I’d like to think today counts,” Louis answered, running his hand over Harry’s back.

“Me, too,” Harry replied, lifting his head off Louis’ shoulder in favor of kissing him some more.

-

It was only two dates later when Louis asked Harry an important question, one that made his insides twist, though he knew there was nothing to fear.

They were sitting on the stairs outside Louis’ apartment building eating ice cream, Harry leaning into Louis despite the hot temperature. It happened seemingly randomly, but Louis thinks if he doesn’t ask now, he won’t know how much longer it’ll be until he can ask.

“Harry, can we talk about something a little serious?” Louis began nervously.

“Of course, Lou. What’s up?”

“Do you… I mean, would you-” Louis tried, stumbling over his words. “Can I call you my boyfriend? Would that be okay?”

Harry felt cold at the question, cold and shivery and scared. The last time he agreed to that, it eventually caused him so much pain, physically and mentally, and he’s uneasy. He knew how sweet and gentle Louis is with him and he knows how much he loves spending time with Louis, so he felt awful when he couldn’t bring himself to agree right away. He told himself he’d know to leave should anything similarly bad happen to him, but the idea of being that close with someone again is overwhelming.

Louis felt his stomach twist with Harry’s obvious hesitance and rushed to pacify what he may be feeling. “It may be kinda soon, I know. But I just think you’re very, very sweet and I love being around you and the last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable, Hazza. If you’d rather keep things more casual or take some time to think about it, that’s more than fine. I was just wondering if maybe you were thinking like I was and-”

“Lou, slow down, it’s fine!” Harry said, stopping his nervous chattering. “You don’t make me uncomfortable, not at all. It’s not your fault, it’s just that it’s been kind of hard for me before, that’s all…” Harry trailed off, conflicted with himself.

“Oh,” Louis said. “Alright.” There was a slightly awkward pause before he said, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s fine. But… is it about your ex-boyfriend?” He didn’t know Derek used to hit Harry, and Harry was worried he may be finding out very soon. Harry hated the thought of Louis thinking he let someone walk all over him like that. Louis tells him how cute he is when he’s polite, but Harry knew it was a matter of time before Louis decided he was too sweet for his own good.

“Um, yeah. I’ve mentioned Derek a few times?” Louis nodded, taking in the way Harry’s smile was always long gone when talking about this person. “I haven’t dated anyone since him, and when we were together, things weren’t really as they should be, ya know?”

Louis furrowed his eyebrows. “No, I don’t know,” he quietly replied. He felt guilty, not wanting Harry to spell it out as it seemed like such a difficult topic for him.

“Well, he kind of used to hit me sometimes, or, like, force himself on me,” Harry told him, his cheeks a fiery red. “He’s been arrested, so it’s okay and I’m fine now, but it’s a weird thought to date someone after that…” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry, Haz,” Louis said in a reverent voice, grabbing his hand and squeezing slightly. “I totally understand if you’re not ready to be that close with someone again, it’s fine. We can just stay friends if you’d like that better?” he asked. Louis was so willing accommodate for this sweet boy who was made of nothing but kindness. “Or maybe just friends who kiss sometimes, like right now?”

Harry’s smile returned at Louis’ suggestion. “Maybe,” he answered, cuddling up to Louis again. “I really wanna be your boyfriend, Lou, but I dunno. I’m just… weird about it,” he whispered like it’s all a secret only for Louis.

“You’re not weird, love, don’t say that. You’ve just had a bad experience,” Louis told him, rubbing his thumb over Harry’s. “Maybe… we can make this official, call each other ‘boyfriend,’” Louis began, causing Harry to smile wide at him, “and just take things really slow, at whatever pace you’re comfortable with, Haz. And as things go on, if you decide you don’t fancy being in a relationship just yet, we can take a step back and just be friends again. What do you think about that?”

Harry mulled it over for a moment before letting Louis know his thoughts. “I want you to know I really appreciate how thoughtful you’re being for me, Lou,” he told him shyly.

Louis smiled warmly at him, bringing Harry’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Of course, Harry. No one should feel uncomfortable when it comes to relationships.”

“I know, and I’m so comfortable with you. You make me all warm and happy inside, make me feel only good things.”

Louis leaned into him and kissed his temple, smiling into his hair. “You’re very sweet, Hazza.”

Harry paused before completely making up his mind. “I wanna be your boyfriend, Lou. For sure.”

Louis untangled his fingers from Harry’s to give him a big hug, holding him tight. “Thank you, baby. Thank you for giving me a chance. I wanna be able to make you feel good things every day.”

Louis pulled back and Harry laced their fingers together once more. He and Louis held on.

-

A week later found the two of them sharing a table at the café Harry worked at. It was a slow Sunday afternoon, and the shop had been empty for hours. Harry got out his journal to idly write about his day just for something to do while Louis kept him company, running his hand through Harry’s hair in admiration.

“You’ve got the most beautiful curls, Hazza. It’s getting so long, I can’t get enough of it,” Louis told him earnestly. It made Harry glow with happiness; he was really liking it as well. “Have you ever thought about tying it back, keep it out of your eyes?”

Harry’s cheeks flushed; he was not in the mood to ruin his time with Louis by thinking about Derek. “Um, nah, not really…” he replied.

“I was just thinking, it may be nice, tie it back with a scarf or something. Especially for work, so it’s not in your eyes?” Louis asked.

“Uh, yeah… maybe,” he answered quietly, looking interestedly as Louis leans down to look for something in the bag he used to pack Harry’s lunch in today.

“I was in a shop downtown and saw this,” Louis explained, retrieving an army green scarf with little blue anchors all over it. “I had to get it for you, it reminded me of your eyes right away,” he told Harry, smiling up at him. “I was thinking it would look nice in your hair, if you’d like it? Really bring out the green in your pretty eyes, love.”

Harry’s cheeks felt even hotter, this time with happiness at his considerate boyfriend.  “Um, yeah,” he chuckled. “I’ll try it. That’s so thoughtful of you, Lou,” he said happily.

“Can I tie it in for you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please,” Harry answered with a shy smile. He put down his pencil and turned towards Louis, whose nimble fingers gathered up Harry’s hair and wrapped the scarf around his head.

“There. Now I can see your bright, pretty eyes,” Louis told him with a grin, planting a kiss on his forehead.

-

Harry was walking out of the café one late night, making his way to the art store where Louis worked. Harry got off an hour before Louis, so he liked to keep Louis company until his shift was over. After Harry’s shift ended, he gathered some leftover soup in a to-go container and wrapped up one of the cinnamon muffins Louis was particularly fond of. He knew how hungry Louis got by the end of the day, getting off at 8 in the evening without having a break for dinner.

As Harry walked the four blocks to the store, he reminisced about his life a year ago around this time, which included a much sadder Harry whose eyes weren’t nearly as bright as they were with Louis.

_It was starting to rain harder and Harry cursed himself for forgetting a jacket. He walked from the warm café to the auto shop about a mile south. He stepped carefully on the slick sidewalk, trying to get to his destination quickly so as not to keep his boyfriend waiting._

_He brought Derek his dinner every evening, usually from the café. Tonight was no different, rounding the familiar corners as a subdued, panicky dread filled his stomach. He tried telling himself he had nothing to be afraid of, everything was fine, and it was just another Tuesday evening._

_He walked in through the open garage door, finally away from the rain. He spotted Derek in the corner, his hands greasy and face sweaty from working all afternoon._

_“I’ve got your dinner, babe,” Harry announced, pulling up a chair next to him._

_Derek took the paper bag with a look of disdain on his face at the sorry state of it. “Yeah, thanks, H. Don’t worry about keeping it dry or anything.”_

_Harry gave him a sheepish look and toyed with a thread on his shirt._

_Derek took one bite and grimaced, reaching over to thump Harry on the back of his head, too forceful to be considered playful._

_“Harry this is, like, chowder or some shit. I asked you for vegetable soup or whatever it was you had the other night,” he complained, giving Harry a scathing look._

_“’M sorry, we were out of everything but this one,” he explained quietly._

_Derek grabbed his hair and threw him backward, hard enough to nearly topple Harry’s chair over._

_“’S not my fault, is it?” he asked, digging into his dinner despite his anger. “You can be such a mess, H. Never do anything right,” he said under his breath but loudly enough for Harry to hear. Harry mentally slapped himself for being so sensitive as his eyes teared up slightly._

_“Shouldn’t you be at home anyway? You haven’t done the laundry in three weeks. I’m tired of reminding you to do it, just get it done,” Derek snapped at him._

_Harry, grateful for a reason to leave, nodded and made his way home as the rain came down harder._

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts as he found himself in front of Louis’ shop, hearing the bell ding as he opened the door.

“Hi, Harry,” a young girl greeted him as he made his way to the backroom where Louis was usually to be found.

“Hi, Jen,” he said, waving at Louis’ coworker. He came here so often now he was nearly as friendly with everyone as Louis was.

Harry walked through the door with a big ‘Employees Only’ sign on it and found Louis unpacking tubes of paint from big boxes.

“Hi, Hazza!” Louis said happily, setting down the paints and holding his arms open.

“Hi, love. I’ve brought you soup, if you’d like some,” Harry told him, kissing the top of his head.

“I’m starving, I’d love some,” Louis replied, clearing away some papers from a table and pulling up two stools. He unpacked the soup and the muffin, beaming up at Harry. “Is this one of those cinnamon ones you brought me the other day? It’s my new favorite, baby, thank you!”

Harry grinned at his excitement, giggling at Louis’ moans of how good the hot soup was.

“I don’t know how you do it, Haz, your cooking is incredible every time I try it,” Louis told him, causing Harry to flush with pride. They chatted idly about their days, Harry telling Louis how fast his new lemon cranberry cakes sold out. He stopped halfway through a story about the process of baking them when he noticed Louis staring unceasingly at him with a small smile, ignoring the spoonful of soup raised halfway to his mouth.

“I nearly dropped them when I turned to put the pan in… the… what? What is it?”

“You’re so cute when you talk about the things you bake,” Louis said dreamily. “I’m sorry, love, go on. I’m still listening, I promise.”

-

A month later, Louis had finally coaxed Harry into spending the night with him, promising him Chinese takeaway, movies, and lots of cuddles-nothing more, nothing to worry about. Harry knew what he was referring to, and appreciated Louis’ effort to keep things going slow and comfortable with Harry. From the day of their picnic, Harry was sure he wanted to take things one step at a time, not rush anything he had with Louis. Only recently had he began thinking that maybe he was ready for more, to be with Louis in a more intimate way. He knew Louis was ready, probably had been ready since their first date but was perfectly fine waiting for Harry to get comfortable.

The two of them were cuddled up close on Louis’ bed having a Spiderman marathon, already in their pajamas. All evening they had been equal parts watching the movies and ignoring the TV in favor of kissing. They kissed heatedly as a fight scene raged on the screen in front of them. All Harry could focus on was how Louis tasted of potstickers and soy sauce. Louis slowed down and disconnected their lips, pecking his cheeks a few times before turning back to the movie. Harry suspected he stopped because he was just starting to get a little too hot and bothered by the way Louis kept fidgeting his hips, presumably to adjust himself. He understood and smiled at the gesture, curious as to what would happen if he asked Louis for more right now out of nowhere. He opted to wait for a bit, maybe even another day.

The end credits rolled half an hour later, and Louis turned to Harry. “Ready to go to sleep, sweetheart?”

Harry nodded tiredly up at Louis, scooting down in his bed to rest his head.

Louis flicked off the TV and his bedside lamp, twisting around to face Harry. “Goodnight, love, sleep well,” Louis whispered.

“Goodnight, Lou, sweet dreams.”

Harry fell asleep with his legs tangled with Louis’ and a warm arm around his waist, his face pressed to Louis’ chest. His dreams weren’t as peaceful, memories reenacting themselves in his subconscious.

_“Through here, H, come on,” Derek instructed, pulling Harry through a dark hallway, the pounding music still audible. They were in the back room of a club, Derek’s friends still downing shots in the main room. No one noticed him and Harry disengaging from the crowd and wandering off._

_Derek pushed him through the doorway of a tiny, grimy bathroom. Phone numbers and messages were scribbled all over the walls and the toilet and sink were rusted over. Joints and condom wrapper littered the floor, the small cupboard filled with a nearly unbearable smell._

_“I don’t like this, babe, can we leave?” Harry attempted, not having much hope of his plea being received by his boyfriend’s coke-muddled mind. Harry felt the dread twisting like a knife in his stomach; he knew how horny Derek got after he’d been drinking._

_“We’re gonna have fun, Harry,” he said, covering Harry’s mouth with his own in a sloppy kiss. His hands traveled to Harry’s bum, groping him aggressively. Harry could feel his boner pressing into his hip._

_Derek made quick work of undoing Harry’s pants, pushing them past his bum and undoing his own pants. He grasped Harry’s jaw, pushing his fingers in Harry’s mouth. Harry sucked on his fingers, his lips shaking in anxiety._

_As soon as he removed his fingers, Derek immediately replaced his mouth on Harry’s, licking in heatedly while his fingers were brought down to his backside. Harry felt two fingers pushed roughly into his tense body, trying to turn his mouth away from Derek’s._

_“Stop, babe, I really don’t want to tonight,” he tried, wincing at the intrusion. Derek kissed at his neck, ignoring his protest. “Please, Derek, I’m still sore from before we left.”_

_“Stop talking, H, I‘m making you feel good, you should be grateful,” Derek smirked at him, twisting three fingers inside the boy in front of him._

_Harry felt helpless and in pain, unaware of what he should do. “Can you please use a condom this time?” he asked in a small voice._

_Derek snorted. “Don’t have one, baby. Turn around for me.”_

_Harry turned, his bum facing Derek as he heard his boyfriend spitting on his hand and jerking himself off a bit before taking Harry by surprise and pushing in all at once._

_“Stop it, Derek, I’m serious. It hurts!” Harry cried, much louder this time. Tears streamed down his face as he felt the person who was supposed to love him causing him pain, taking and taking and taking without pausing to think about Harry’s state._

_A hand covered his mouth and he felt warm breath by his neck. “Dammit, Harry, be quiet. Someone’s gonna think you’re getting raped in here.”_

Harry woke up, twisted in Louis’ sheets and his hair plastered to his forehead. He was breathing loudly, trying to figure out what was happening. He felt someone shift next to him and he seized up, his ex-boyfriend still on his mind.

He slowly let his muscles relax, thoughts of his movie night with Louis drifting through his head.

“Hazza?” a soft voice said, causing Harry to flinch. Louis sat up and flicked on the lamp. “Sweetheart, is something wrong?”

He took in Harry’s face, eyes wild and forehead slick. Harry looked at him, feeling leftover tears fall down his face. He roughly wiped at them, unaware he was even crying.

“Uhm,” Harry began, his voice raspy. He cleared his throat and began again. “Just, uh, bad dream,” he explained shakily.

Louis stared at him with concern. “It’s okay, love, you’re fine,” he whispered, grabbing Harry’s sweaty hand in his own. “Was it… was it about him? Derek?”

Harry bit his lip and tried not to cry as he nodded, feeling so embarrassed for waking Louis up like this.

Louis kissed his cheek gently, pressing his nose into his temple. “I’m sorry, angel. It’s all gone, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed out, trying to steady his pounding heart.

Louis pulled away and placed the back of his hand to Harry’s forehead. “You’re really hot, Hazza, let me get you some water, okay?” he asked, already getting out of bed.

He pulled the sheets off Harry and tugged off his pajama pants, leaving him in his briefs. “I’ll be right back.”

He returned shortly with a glass of water and the scarf Harry had worn when he arrived but had discarded before bed.

“Sit up for me, love,” Louis told him quietly. Harry was handed a glass of water which he took a long sip of before placing it on the nightstand. “Lean forward a bit, please,” Louis said. Harry did so and closed his eyes, feeling Louis’ quick hands gathering up his sweaty hair and tying it back for him.

“Is that good? Too tight?” Louis asked patiently.

“No, Lou, it’s fine. Thank you,” he replied, giving Louis a grateful look.

“Of course, honey. Come here,” Louis said, pulling Harry to his lap.

All of a sudden, Harry jerked his head up, looking at Louis in earnest. “Lou? I love you.”

Louis stared back at him, frozen for a moment before snapping out of it and pulling Harry to his chest.

“I love you, too, Harry. So, so much,” Louis promised. _When was the last time Derek told him that unironically?_

Louis held him close and rubbed his back, whispering sweet things to calm him down. “Relax, Hazza, you can breathe easy now.” Louis leaned in close and kissed around his ear before whispering, “My precious love.”

Harry pulled back and looked at Louis with big, innocent eyes. “Lou, do you want me?”

Louis furrowed his eyebrows at the question. “Uh… yeah, Hazza, of course. How do you mean?”

“Would you fuck me right now?”

Louis was caught off guard, to say the least. He looked into Harry’s pleading eyes, his boyfriend gazing at him expectantly. “I… not like that, love,” Louis answered hesitantly, brushing his knuckles against Harry’s cheek. “Not _fuck_ you. Not quick and rough sex that’s over before you know it.”

Harry nodded slowly with a confused look on his face, not understanding what Louis meant.

“If you’re completely sure you’re ready, sweetheart, then I’d be more than happy to take my time with you,” Louis went on. The confused look on Harry’s face grew more severe- the thought of prolonging sex sounded downright painful to him. He only wanted to show Louis he trusted him, help make Louis feel good and prove how much he loved him by letting Louis fuck him. To Harry, sex had always been one-sided and usually relatively painful. He loved Louis so much, he was willing to go through that again, if Louis wanted to have sex with him, too.

“I’m sure you’re pretty tired right now, and I don’t want to keep you up all night,” Louis said. “But if you’re sure you want to, we can make love right now, darling.”

Harry nodded hesitantly, still a bit confused as to why Louis expects it would take so long. It’s always been considerably quick for Harry in the past. Even his very first time, Derek enthusiastically fucked him for about ten minutes until he had finished and jerked Harry off afterwards.

“I’d take the time to make sure you’re completely prepared, baby,” Louis told him. “Are you sure you’re okay with staying awake a while longer?”

Harry nodded immediately. If that’s all Louis was worried about, they’d be fine. It only took Harry a minute or two to get fingered open in the past; he’d be fine.

“Alright, sweetheart. Lay down for me,” Louis told him, getting slightly distracted by kissing his boyfriend some more. He pet is hand up and down Harry’s side, soothing his heavy breathing.

He turned away, rummaging around for a bottle of lube in his drawer. He faced Harry again and, keeping his scarf in place, peeled off Harry’s slightly damp t shirt from his body. He did the same for himself and took off the rest of his clothes. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat, taking in Louis’ uninhibited body for the first time, reaching out to run his hand over his thick thighs.

Louis smiled down at him lovingly, bending to peck his lips before removing his boxer briefs. Louis kissed down his chest, thumbing at his nipples, causing Harry to shiver. “You’re so _beautiful_ , my angel, always so beautiful.”

Louis traveled further down Harry’s body, pressing kisses into Harry’s soft tummy and gently biting bruises into his hips. He carefully nudged Harry’s legs apart, kissing at the crease of his thighs. He finally planted a kiss onto the head of his dick, licking up the precome and closing his mouth around his tip, sucking lightly.

Harry was nearly seeing stars. He’d done this for his old boyfriend, but never knew what it felt like on the receiving end. He gazed down at Louis now, his pretty eyelashes fanning across his cheeks as he set to work on bringing Harry to full hardness. It didn’t take long- it had been nearly a year since anyone touched him there. Louis was a sight, taking Harry further and further down, his thin lips stretched around Harry. Louis looked up at him as his nose touched the hairs below Harry’s tummy. His hand was gently squeezing his hip, running his thumb over the love bite he just put there.

Harry felt his stomach tightening; he knew he was coming close. He thought of how much he disliked it when Derek came in or around his mouth and made sure to get Louis’ attention.

“Lou- don’t. ‘M really close,” he groaned out. Louis pulled off, swiping his thumb over his slit to collect his precome one last time. Harry gazed at him, completely overwhelmed.

“Alright, baby? Still wanna go on?” Louis asked, just to be sure. Harry confirmed his question right away.

Louis rifled around for the bottle of lube, finding it and applying some to three of his fingers. He nestled in close to Harry and circled his cool finger around his rim before pressing one slowly inside. He twisted the finger around, letting Harry get situated before moving it in and out. He brushed against Harry’s prostate, causing Harry to whine loudly into his shoulder.

Louis leaned down and kissed his cheek. “It’s okay, my love. Relax your body, I can’t have you in any pain.”

Harry nodded, getting used to the easy slide of Louis’ finger, loving how it felt. Once he started following the rhythm with his hips, Louis spoke again. “Another?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Yes, please.”

Louis added another, scissoring his fingers, making sure Harry was getting properly opened up. He kissed up and down Harry’s neck, whispering when he got close to his ear. “I love you, love you, love you, Hazza.”

Harry keened at his words, finally feeling relaxed in this situation. Nothing was hurting, nothing was rushed, and Louis was focused completely on him and what made him feel good. Louis added a third finger after a while, preparing Harry as best he could.

He pressed purposely into Harry’s spot, watching Harry’s back arch as a whine of his name from Harry’s lips. “Louis!” Harry said, chasing the feeling of his fingers. Louis kissed his lips and continued to move his fingers in and out.

“Louis…” he repeated, quieter but with purpose.

“What is it, love?”

“Can I… can we- can-” Harry stuttered.

“Are you ready, Haz?” Louis asked, understanding his mumbling.

“Yes, Lou. I love you,” Harry whispered as Louis withdrew his fingers.

“You want me to use a condom, sweetheart? I’m clean, just so you know.”

“Yes, please, Lou. If you don’t mind…” Harry answer quietly, not meeting his eyes.

“That’s fine, I don’t mind. It’s completely your choice, baby,” he reassured, rooting through his drawer again.

Harry heard a rip and some slick noises, his eyes closed in anticipation. Louis moved closer, situated himself above Harry and held his face in one hand.

“You’re sure, Harry? You ready?”

“Yes, Lou. Really want you.”

“Okay,” he whispered, pressing kisses all over Harry’s face. “Tell me if something’s off, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out.

“Alright. Relax for me, baby.” Louis leaned his close, pressing right at his ear to tell him, “I love you, Harry,” once more before slowly pushing in.

Harry breathed heavily, all of his sense sharpened and focused on Louis. He had his legs draped around Louis’ waist pulling him in closer. Given all his bad memories, he was pleasantly surprised how safe he felt right now, chalking it up to Louis’ careful preparation and reassuring love.

Once Louis was completely in, his hips pressed firmly to Harry’s bum, he made sure to check in once more. “Alright, sweetheart? Does that feel okay?”

“Oh, _Louis_ ,” Harry moaned, drinking in the way he felt so intimate with his careful, loving boy.

Louis smiled and kissed his forehead, pulling out slightly and building up a rhythm.

Harry laid there and took it, craving the way their slow pace made every good feeling amplified.

Louis sped up slightly, just enough to work out some more pretty sounds from Harry. He hovered over Harry, giving and giving and giving; giving Harry kisses and goosebumps and flushed cheeks. Louis treated him in a way Harry was unfamiliar with but was soon becoming addicted to. It was so unlike anything he’d experienced before.

Louis shifted his hips, aiming straight for Harry’s most sensitive spot. A drawn out whine escaped Harry’s mouth, spurring Louis forward. Louis nuzzled his head in Harry’s neck, telling him how good he was, how amazing he felt, how pretty he looked like this.

“Beautiful, Hazza. All spread out and flushed down to your chest, making the most amazing sounds for me,” Louis told him. He thrusted straight toward Harry’s prostate, punctuating each thrust with, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”  Harry felt so overwhelmed, tears leaking out and running down his face. He had never felt this loved before, never felt taken care of like this at all.

Louis’ quiet praises and unceasing thrusts sent him so close to the edge, seconds from coming undone from his touch.

“Lou-Louis, I’m… I’m so-” Harry tried telling him, unable to get the words out.

“I’m here, love. Let go, you’re so good for me,” he whispered, pressing the words into his skin. He wrapped a hand around Harry’s aching cock, encouraging him.

“ _Louis_! Please, I love you,” Harry moaned out spilling over Louis’ hand. Louis worked him through his orgasm, prolonging it as best he could.

The sight of Harry arching his back obscenely towards Louis’ chest and how tight Harry tensed up when he came drove Louis over the edge as well. He buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, kissing and licking behind his ear. Harry got chills when he felt Louis’ warm breath in his ear, telling him “ _You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.”_

Louis filled up the condom and pulled out of his panting boyfriend. He peeled off the condom and tied it up, reaching around for some tissues to clean up Harry. Once the two of them had evened out their breathing and cooled off, Louis pulled Harry closer to him.

“That felt unreal, baby. You’re so, so good. Did it feel alright for you?”

“I’ve never felt anything like that, Lou. It was… overwhelming,” Harry told him quietly. “In a good way, I mean. I’ve never felt so good before.”

“I wanna make you feel good like that every day, Haz. Make love to you when you’re sad, or happy… or needy.”

Harry blushed, biting back a grin as he pressed his face to Louis’ chest. “Love you, Lou. You make me feel so lucky. So happy,” he said.

“I love you, too, Harry. You’re so incredible, so irresistible,” Louis told him, running his hands up and down Harry’s sides. “You’re perfect, Hazza. Absolutely everything I want.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote another fic about the boyfriends crying after nightmares come fight me @ [sunflowerstyles](http://sunflowerstyles.tumblr.com/)


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